I'm in tuned with
the moonlit
dew drip
when June splits
the year in half
I left the window cracked
so the wind would have
a clearer path
Can you feel the draft?
Can you feel the laughter
being built up
glasses being filled up
after
years of practicing
the mastery of his craft
the battery's not everlasting
it's a balance act in fact
to take the good with bad
and have a meaningful impact
Leading sheep to water
Counting horses
sleep at last
Take a sip and pass
And saddle in
Cuz it's a blast
See it's these demons I've been battlin'
And up til now I've handled it
But it seems as though I've had enough
So it's batter up
Lather up
These buttercups
And roast em with some butternut
Squash these so-called wonder struck
Losers.... their all runners up

Your eyes are the same green-blue of the ocean.
Your smile, as warm and bright as the sun.
Your laugh as welcome as the crash of the waves.
Your hands the sand caressing my body
        as I lay in your bed.
You are my getaway
And I never want to leave.

Please don’t say not all men, when me too
becomes me three, me four, then twenty,
two thousand, too many for boy to be boys
or locker room talk.

We can’t talk away when men power grab
for things they have no right to touch,
with 140 characters insincere apologizes.

It’s time to man up and speak out and say
that being a gentleman is more than chairs and doors.
It’s less bro fists, shrugs and awkward laughs.
Instead, it is not cool bro, and really man you know better.

Because we know better, we know what goes on behind
closed doors, and only dealing with it when the doors are open
is not a solution but a symptom of the problem.

Being a nice guy does not give you access to her thighs.
Compliments don’t allow you to pass judgements
and what she wears, where she goes and what she does
does not mean a free pass.

If this culture thinks silence is permission
than I will be loud until no one has to say me too.

In my youth I said I was more than black.
That my melanin was skin deep,
just a glance doesn’t reveal anything.
Time has taught me that I’m black enough.

I’m black enough that I got a college degree
to go with the Oreos kids called me

Black enough to pause when a cop rolls
by, even though I’ve committed no crime.
Black enough that I got family doing time.

Still black enough to be excited
about Black Lightning, Black Panther and Luke Cage.
Black enough to know people will see we are more than rage.

Black enough to never
let anyone call me outside my name,
and to rock twists until they became my mane.

See I’m black enough to know
I’m blessed enough to be made in his image.
That every breath in this body is a privilege.

I’m blessed enough to have two parents at home.
Blessed enough that God’s with me when I roam

I’m blessed enough to use these words as weapons,
cutting down all societal expectations.

Blessed enough to know that yes,
I am more than black,
but I’m still black enough.

I like to think
That you're still watching over me
This year, on the three year anniversary
Of your death
You sent me someone to fall in love with.

I have been told
"It's not who you think about at 2:00 AM
When you're lonely
It's who you think about at 2:00 PM
When you're busy"
But I think about you constantly
even when you're next to me
and I wonder how it is I got so lucky
for you to be this in love with me